Thus, Kawasaki Saki Strikes

by Slalem

A peculiar request from an unexpected acquaintance pressures Hachiman into joining her part-time gig. Unbeknownst to him, however, the girl's true intentions may be far more profound and convoluted than he might have anticipated.

6. VI

And so, the Monster sheds his Namesake.

Before I had even a chance to reply, a shrill voice called before me.

"Tobe!" The cry sounded familiar. Yuigahama, adorned in a preppy little pink dress perhaps a few too many centimeters down her bosom, stomped over to the offender. She looked a bit winded, if the red on her cheeks were any indication. "What are you doing?!"

The buffoon frowned. "I'm enjoying the party! Didn't I already do everything that I needed to do?"

Yuigahama's cheeks puffed even more, if that was possible. "That's not what I—oh, never mind!" She then quickly turned in Kawasaki's direction, apparently forgetting altogether that I was also present. "I'm sorry about that! Tobe's just being dumb!" Shooting one last disapproving glance at Tobe (her best attempt at one, at least), Yuigahama stormed back to whatever corner of the room she popped out of, leaving the idiot in question to resume in partaking of the punch he'd been downing beforehand.

Thus, that left me alone once again, still directly in the line of sight of the girl I'd been shamelessly gawking at for around a minute. Considering the nature of what Tobe had blurted out, I was still feeling rather... flustered, let's call it. It didn't help that my natural defenses against this assault on my livelihood were ineffective in this environment—I couldn't sit down and mask my presence, considering that Kawasaki was still staring right at me, and I couldn't whip out my phone or a spare light novel to make myself look busy, considering I had forgone bringing either to school with me. In simple terms, I was pinned between a rock and a hard place.

During my despair-filled monologue, Kawasaki had actually taken the liberty of approaching me instead. Though she was certainly taller in heels, she still barely reached to beneath my forehead. "Hachiman?"

Still reeling slightly, I nearly jumped after seeing her so close to me. That girl was deceptively quick. "Uh... hello."

She smelt nice. Like a fresh breeze on a cool autumn—

"So, uh, what brings you here?" I blurted out of desperation. I couldn't even trust my own thoughts anymore.

Predictably, Kawasaki gave me a confused look. "I go to school here."

The hole I was digging myself into became deeper. "Oh."

Her eyes narrowed, whether in irritation or concern I didn't know. "Hachiman, are you feeling okay? You didn't eat or drink anything weird, did you?"

Kawasaki's finer details gleamed my eye as she neared me further. Her lips were full and pale, though they were currently morphed into a frown. Soft amounts of foundation and blush adorned her cheeks—a rare sighting, as Kawasaki normally went against the idea of makeup. I would have guessed that she was wearing eyeliner, but that would have maybe appeared to have looked like I was staring too pointedly at her.

It broached my mind that she had asked me a question. "I'm alright. Still a little tired, I guess."

She folded her arms. I tried to remove the image of her bust shifting upwards as she did so. "Why's that? Were you doing something you weren't supposed to?"

Before I had even a chance of defending myself against any insinuations on her part, Miura's commanding voice called from across the room. "Hikio! Do you know how to set a table?"

My few months of work at the Angel Ladder came to mind. "Yeah. Who's asking?"

"I am. Tobe doesn't know how to do it. Would you mind showing him while I make sure the lights and music work? Thanks."

While she strode off, I silently thanked her for her intrusion into my own little predicament. I turned to Kawasaki to apologize. "Sorry, I need to go help him. I'll catch you later."

I made to leave, though I was keen on noticing the questionable glance Kawasaki was giving me. Her eyes were trained onto me, with a gaze that betrayed the stoic demeanor she was attempting to convey. It was different, but I shouldn't have really been surprised. Given how much she had already deviated from her normal look, I supposed that a few odd glances here and there weren't really out of the ordinary.

With a small nod and a dignified "okay", she made to travel in the opposite direction, as we both turned and went our separate ways. A lingering part of me wished I had answered her question. I at least owed it to her for being concerned about me.

"Hikitani! Why do we need two forks for every seat? Isn't that, like, repundant or whatever that word is?"

Sighing, I trudged my way towards Tobe.

---

The party did eventually start, and despite the looming line outside, it wasn't as crowded as I imagined it would have been. There was plenty of room to operate and move around in, and it wasn't particularly crowded in any certain portion of the room. Everybody was conversing and socializing, some had drinks and snacks in their hands as they chatted, and a few had even taken to dancing with their partners to classical music on the dancefloor. It seemed as though our idea was a hit with the rest of the student body.

Despite myself, I felt a small bit of pride well up within me. This was what Oshino must have felt at the Angel Ladder. Seeing something you put effort and care into turn out in a positive way imbues a sense of accomplishment in your craft. While one could argue that I didn't put that much effort into the project in the grand scheme of things (I certainly wouldn't dispute that point), it still stood to reason that I was proud of the end result. We made something that people enjoyed, and that was enough for me.

Though, I myself wasn't all that enthused. I was still hopelessly bored and tired. I was in the beginning stages of an escape plot when the familiar scent of raspberry slid into the seat on my right.

"Yahallo, Hikki!" Yuigahama greeted with enthusiasm I couldn't hope to muster. Noticing the rather aimless look on my face, she made to comment. "What's got you feeling blue?"

"Nothing's got me feeling blue. I'm feeling rather navy-ish, if we're talking exact metrics."

"How'd I know you were gonna say something like that," Yuigahama sighed. "Why don't you go chat with someone? Everyone's having a lot of fun!"

I gave the girl an obvious look. "I'm already chatting with you, aren't I? That should count as more than enough."

Despite the sudden flushing of her face, Yuigahama pressed on. "Y-You know what I mean. You helped orchestrate this whole thing, you deserve to go let loose for a bit!"

"I'd rather not. I'm rather content with sitting in this chair and spectating. In a way, you could say this is my own version of 'letting loose'."

Yuigahama looked exasperated. It was a look that I would admit did not suit her. "Would it kill you to at least try to have some fun?"

"Would it kill you to find another dress?" I shielded my eyes from the sparkles and glitter I now noticed were adorned over every inch of her dress. "I'll go blind if I stay in your vicinity for the next half hour."

My classmate's face turned red. "Hey! My mom bought me this dress!"

"Yuigamama doesn't seem to have as good of a fashion sense as her daughter does, then." I let out a smirk. I had rendered the pinkette incapable of coherent speech, at least temporarily. If teasing the poor girl was a sport, I'd be All-World.

"Oh yeah? W-Well you look...!" Yuigahama struggled to find words. "You look like... um..."

"I suggest you pick your next words carefully. The fit's Komachi's doing, not mine."

My clubmate froze, and made to backtrack. "Oh! Well then, um... you look really nice! Yeah, thumbs up for you, Hikki!"

I suppressed the urge to laugh maliciously. "Oh? Are you implying that if I had chosen my own ensemble, you would have still made fun of me? That's pretty discriminatory, Yuigahama."

"I don't know what that means and you know it!"

Deep down, I was cackling. Like I said, All-World. I wondered if this was what it must have felt like to be Yukinoshita. I'll admit, the power's kind of getting to me a bit.

We sat silently for a moment, the two of us. Such an occasion was rather rare, since Yuigahama always had something to talk to me about. Not that I would ever listen all that attentively, but it was still somewhat nice to have someone willing to divulge their problems to you. She and Komachi were very much alike in that regard.

Yuigahama was not a quiet creature by design, though. When she wasn't speaking, it was normally due to something weighing heavily on her mind, or that she was too flustered to say anything. I had a hard time labeling which instance was occurring during this specific example.

I saw her sneaking glances at me none too discreetly, and decided to break the ice. "What's on your mind?" Naturally, her first instinct was to act defensive around me. We may have been acquaintances for some time now, but simple cordiality doesn't override the intrusive nature my basic existence projects onto others.

"Nothing..." Yuigahama said, forcing a smile and reserved laughter. She seemed surprisingly unsure of herself.

"If you don't wanna tell me, that's fine," I shrugged. If she wanted to dance around whatever it was that was bothering her, she would receive no qualms from me. I'm not one to intrude on things that don't concern me. Most of the time.

It was her turn to sigh. Again, exasperated and defeated is not a look that suits her. "No, it's fine... I mean, I guess I owe it to you, with your request and all..."

I felt myself burn up a little. My little outburst wasn't something I liked to reflect on often. Exposing how weak and fragile I was to other people for the sake of my one desire... I clutched my pant leg a tad bit tighter.

"I've come to realize that... we won't be around much longer." Yuigahama began, a somber tone etched into her words.

"I never took you for a nihilist," I attempted to joke with her, though I knew she had a low chance of knowing what that even was. Predictably, Yuigahama shot me a pouty look. "I'm being serious here, Hikki!"

She pressed on. "I mean, we're already pretty deep into the year... it seems like a while, but it won't be long until we graduate and stuff..."

"Does that worry you?" I asked purely out of courtesy, though I was rather certain I already knew what her answer would be.

Yuigahama's eyes sank even lower. "I don't really know. One part of me is glad that we're all taking the next step in our lives, but a part of me wishes that we could have a little more time to have fun, you know?"

Honestly, I didn't. There were many words I could use to describe my time in high school, but "fun" wasn't anywhere in the ballpark of my imagination.

I remembered coming into high school secretly hoping that it would be the sort of turning point I thought I needed in my life— I would shed my status as a loner and grow into the charismatic social butterfly I knew was buried deep within my conscious for years. Of course, that didn't happen, and I was left with what has thus far been a series of misfortunate social trainwrecks that seemingly come and go, slowly destroying my life at their leisure.

Outlandish. Bizarre. Melodramatic. Those were the kind of words that came to mind when I thought of my high school tenure. Even someone as enthusiastic and air-headed as Yuigahama would have trouble spinning my last couple of years into an experience one would deem as fun.

But still, this was Yuigahama I was talking about. I'm sure that life for her has become a whirlwind since she joined the Service Club, though she's undoubtedly taken it much better than I have. Who am I to trample on how she feels about her time in high school? In the end, it's an experience that both of us will look back on and ponder on with different perspectives.

"I guess," I answered with a boorish sigh. When in doubt, shrug it out, as I sometimes say. Life's too short to spend it worrying about insignificant hypotheticals—which is ironic, coming from me.

"Don't be like that, Hikki," Yuigahama saw right through my charade. I keep forgetting that she isn't as stupid as I make her out to be. "Even if you won't admit it, you've made plenty of fun memories."

"Oh yeah?" I cocked an eyebrow in her direction. Perhaps there was a way that she could spin the last few years for me into a fun experience. My curiosity was piqued. "Like what?"

Yuigahama thought, but not for long. "How about when the club made cookies?"

My stomach churned remorsefully. "Please don't remind me of that."

She thought a little harder. "Remember when we played that doubles tennis match? Against Yumiko and Hayato?"

I snorted impolitely. "I'm pretty sure we're the only ones who even remember that happening."

"Um..." Yuigahama looked lost. "... the field trip to Kyoto?"

"I think that's something you and I would both rather forget."

"You're making this really complicated!" Yuigahama attempted to chide me, before returning to her original train of thought. "Come on, think...!"

While it was entertaining to watch the girl despair about my own life, it was best that she didn't wrap herself in too much guilt over it. This was a party, after all. "Just give it up. It's okay to admit that my life isn't exciting."

"Hush! I'm not done yet!" Yuigahama looked ready to burst with contemplation, and in a small bout of insanity, suggested, "How about when we did that housewife training thing? You're a guy, you... you like that kind of stuff... right?"

Man, that takes me back. I had almost completely forgotten about that whole marriage-test fiasco. Granted, the entire thing was pointless and only served as a means of seeing attractive women in wedding gowns, but in retrospect, it wasn't all that bad. Points to Yuigahama for even remembering that.

Plus, it solidified my resolve for Shizuka. That hag deserved to be married, and if I was the only one willing and able for the job, then so be it.

"... okay, I'll grant you that," I spoke with an ounce of resignation in my tone, though I quickly continued once Yuigahama's pearly smile grew. "But still, that's only one instance. That's hardly enough of a sample size to claim that my entire high school life has been the prime of my adolescence."

"Any experience can define a lifetime," Yuigahama spoke sagely, closing her eyes and deepening her voice for effect. It was humorous, but the faint omnipotent vibe emanating from her was slightly concerning. Maybe she was more omnipotent than any of us. Or maybe Yuigahama was simply God in the flesh. Neither seemed likely.

I got back on track. "Regardless, something as irrelevant and forgettable as housewife training would be pretty shameful to define one's time in high school with. Give me something noteworthy, woman."

"Hm..." Yuigahama once again returned to a state of intense-ish contemplation. Call her what you like, but one couldn't deny how tenacious she was when she set her mind on something.

Her eyes then settled on me with an odd look. An uneasy feeling rose in my chest as she began to speak.

"What about the fireworks festival we went to together?"

The uneasy feeling swelled into a discomforting throbbing. I remembered the fireworks festival well. Too well, even. For Yuigahama to bring up the festival, along with what did and didn't transpire there had me more than a little shell-shocked. I suddenly wished I was still brooding by my lonesome, as I had been earlier.

Obviously, I couldn't return to that now. Yuigahama had her eyes locked onto my person, and fleeing now wouldn't be the most gentlemanly of gestures. Feeling cornered with precious little to say, I averted my eyes and nervously fiddled with my vest buttons. Yuigahama, either painfully oblivious or dangerously perceptive, reverted to her previous state of innocence, eyes shining with renewed concern. "Hikki? Are you okay?"

"Uh," I replied intelligently, grasping for appropriate responses I couldn't come up with for the life of me. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... still feeling a bit navy-ish."

Yuigahama frowned, be it due to my poor joke or something else. "Hikki..."

My more rational persona pleaded for me to escape while I still could. I had an immense disposal of practiced excuses I had stored away for this very situation. This formerly simple and unassuming conversation had warped into a painfully awkward and convoluted cesspool that I just didn't have the nerve to face right now. It took a great amount of effort to even keep a relaxed and composed look on my face.

Honestly, it was beginning to look as though all of my acquaintances were, in some form or another, determined to invalidate everything that I had assumed about them previously. I had never imagined that I would be stressing over anything concerning Yuigahama, of all people. I was well aware that there was more to people than what was at face value, but this was getting ridiculous.

I eventually settled for the safest and most harmless possible answer. "It was fun... I guess."

My classmate's eyes lit up, before she shifted in her seat. Based on posture alone, it was very possible that she was just as uncomfortable as I was. "O-Oh... that's... I'm happy to hear that."

"No problem," I replied quickly, and we settled into a very much appreciated silence. For the time being, any possible crisis had been averted. I silently thanked any deity that had been listening to my silent prayers of help—it seemed as though the rom-com gods and their shenanigans had been staved off. For now, anyways.

"Hey, Hikki..." Yuigahama spoke again, and any semblance of relief went right out the window. I apparently wasn't out of the woods yet. "I just wanted to say... thanks."

That caught me off-guard. "Huh?"

"I-I mean... everyone gets on your case a lot... since you're not popular and all," Yuigahama stammered on, just barely above the level of a whisper. Considering the music filling the room, it was a tremendous undertaking just to hear her. "But, you still do a lot that goes unappreciated. Even by Yukino and I sometimes."

"You don't need to thank me," I quickly interjected. Though, I was inwardly very glad that the conversation had shifted into something a little more comfortable to discuss. "Nothing I do is really all that praiseworthy."

Yuigahama allowed a small, humorless laugh to escape. "There you go again, refusing to take credit. But I guess that's just like you."

"You know me so well," I agreed, but cautiously. Tightroping through this conversation was proving increasingly difficult. Not that it already wasn't before.

"But still," she continued, her voice beginning to raise slightly. "Even you deserve something nice every once in a while. It isn't fair that everyone gets to be happy at your expense."

That word. Fair. I heard it tossed around a lot, specifically when it concerned other people. It wasn't fair that he or she got better grades than me. It wasn't fair that he or she liked him or her and not me. It wasn't fair that they got all the nice things the world had to offer, and left me with the scraps. People complain in such a manner believing the world to be an equal medium—a place where everyone has a chance to be anything. They believe that a divine being will swoop down to them and grant them the reprieve they've so desperately craved. Because it would make everything fair.

Of course, when people are faced with the reality that the world simply isn't in their favor, minds change and gears shift. Some rebel against a system they believe to have been rigged against them from the start, desperate for a change that benefits them. Others simply conform, and accept whatever life they can muster together under their realized circumstances. The particularly weak-willed ones... take the easy way out. Realizing the truth of the world's society is, in a way, a sign of maturity, and everyone varies in how they cope with it.

Regarding me, it obviously isn't fair that I'm not appreciated for what I do for the service club and others. Were status and estate based on merit and character, I'd be among the most prominent and wealthiest men of Japan—if one considered my own deeds for others, and not my actual personality. Instead, the most I get in terms of "appreciation" is a thanks from the parties involved, a congratulations from Hiratsuka, and reprimand from Yukinoshita and/or Yuigahama for any underhanded tactics I might have pulled along the way.

I know that I sound really spiteful right now, but I'm not. I was already well acquainted with how the world worked from a young age, and at this point in my life, any praise for what I do and don't do would just feel undeserved and forced. Sure, I do nice things for people sometimes, but that doesn't warrant anyone going out of their way to thank me for it. After all, thanks and congratulations don't pay taxes or put food on the table. They just make you feel good for awhile. Nothing more.

So yes, it isn't fair that I don't get appreciated. But do I seek out appreciation to begin with? No. I simply do what needs to be done, and promptly return to the manner in which I cope with the world's unjustness—not caring about it.

"I'm telling you, I'm not as heroic or just as you're making me out to be." Far from it, actually. "I'm just doing my duty as a member of the Service Club. Same as you and Yukinoshita."

"I-I mean... you're not wrong, I guess," Yuigahama seemed to be struggling to form cohesive sentences. "B-But still! You take time out of your schedule to help other people! To me, that deserves appreciation!"

I scoffed mentally. She made it sound as though I spent one-hundred percent of my time productively, and that I was sacrificing something vitally important for the sake of the club. The most I sacrificed was sleep and the time I previously allotted for read my light novels. Though, to me, those two activities fell squarely into what I would deem "productive activities".

"The same could be said for you," I countered. "You deserve a bit of praise every now and then."

"Me?" Yuigahama squeaked, apparently surprised. As though it were the first time she even considered the idea. "Honestly... It's not really the praise I'm after."

I gave her a curious glance, and she quickly made to clarify. "D-Don't get me wrong! Having your efforts recognized is nice every once in a while, but if we're being honest... I'm happy just knowing that I made a positive difference for someone else." Her eyes lowered, and she smiled wistfully. "Most of the time, I feel like I'm just inconveniencing everyone. I'm not as smart as you or Yukino, and I'm definitely not as level-headed or graceful either. Heck, most of what you two talk about goes over my head, and I feel kind of useless compared to you two."

"But, when I help others, and make them feel better about themselves, if only a little... it makes me forget all of those things," The light returned to Yuigahama's eyes, and she carried on. "I feel like I'm doing something with myself. That I'm not just some ditzy girl in the Service Club. That..." Her breath trembled, before she steadied herself again. "... I'm not just a third wheel."

Then, of all things, she smiled. I'd argue that it shone as brightly as her dress did. "I know that you act like you don't, but deep down, you want a bit of praise too. Kinda like me." She laughed next, a melodious and airy sound. "Guess that's one thing we do have in common, huh, Hikki?"

I tried not to. I really did. But before I even knew it, a faint smile ghosted my lips. Yuigahama had that kind of effect on people. "Perhaps."

"See?" Her grin became even more cheeky. "You and I are pretty alike, despite our differences. Even if that makes you angry."

"Angrier than you'll ever know."

"Hey!"

She laughed again, and I had to fight the urge to grin like an idiot. Though, she was wrong about me desiring praise. After all, praise only got you so far in life, and as an established loner, any kind of praise lavished on to me was useless in all regards. I only partially agreed to what Yuigahama said simply because it would get her off my back and make conversation easier. Obviously.

"Okay!" Yuigahama clapped her cheeks together, rather comically. "Enough sad, boring stuff. We came here to have fun, and darn it, we're gonna have fun!" She stood, nearly toppling over in her heels, before extending her hand to me. I regarded the hand wearily before shooting her a bewildered expression.

"What are you doing?"

"What's it look like I'm doing?" Yuigahama tilted her head, as if what she were doing were the most obvious thing in history. "I'm inviting you!"

I didn't like the sound of that. Refer to previous chapters for my thoughts on invitations. "Inviting me where, exactly?"

She grinned again. This time, I managed to suppress any desire to mirror the action. "To the dancefloor, silly!"

Nope. "I'll pass, thanks."

Yuigahama pouted angrily. "Why not?"

"Do I look like the dancing type to you?" I mean, sure, I'd played a few dancing games with Komachi before, but those games were the sole extent of my experience in dancing. It didn't help that I got crushed by Komachi nearly every time we played each other, or that I got carried by her when we ran co-op. Besides, what kind of dignified loner dances?

"Hikki, there isn't anyone here who's the dancing type," Yuigahama gestured to the dancefloor, and it felt as though I were staring in a mirror with all the janky and unnatural movements I saw. "Besides, we're just gonna waltz for a bit. I'll guide you the entire time, no worries."

I shouldn't have been surprised, considering that everyone else on the floor was waltzing (rather hard to break it down to classical hits from the seventeenth century, I suppose), but that didn't help stop the sudden bout of nerves that overcame me. Dancing was one thing, but dancing with another girl that wasn't your little sister was an entirely different monster.

"Geez, the nerve of you," Yuigahama chastised me. "Usually, it's the gentleman who invites the lady to the floor, not the other way around. You're lucky I'm so nice, Hikki."

Sighing, I stood up. I wasn't escaping this no matter how hard I tried. "Fine, whatever. How long are we doing this?"

Taking her hand into mine, I was surprised to see her move to fit herself against my own body. With what I thought to be sigh of some sort, she looked up towards me, with red on her cheeks and a gleam in her eye that did little to calm the nerves coursing through my body.

"For as long as I want."

I gulped, and mentally readied my will and testament.

---

The air at night feels nice. It's (probably) cleaner, for one thing, and it just feels better. Whereas the morning or afternoon air is brisk and intrusive, the evening air is calm and welcoming. I'm no air connoisseur, but were I to act as one, I'd argue that this kind of air is the best air there is on the planet.

It's also cold. "Like my soul," my old chuuni self would probably say.

I had danced for around half an hour. It doesn't seem like a lot, but when you spend all of it rhythmically shuffling your feet in the most awkward possible manner, with a partner who seems far too invasive of your personal space compared to other duos, it takes a lot out of you. As such, I had retreated to the one place I knew I could find solace in—the rooftop. Now, I was alone once again, relishing in the personal space I had once lost but now reclaimed.

The sun was just about to dip below the horizon. Currently, I was without any reliable way to discern what time it was, but it was obviously getting late. It seemed apparent that I would need to head home soon. For Komachi's sake, of course. Poor girl wouldn't know what to do without the guidance of her amazing big brother.

Though, as the evening breeze continued to settle around me, I figured it wouldn't hurt to lounge about for a while longer. It wasn't often that I was able to take in the ambience like this. I might as well enjoy it while I can.

Just as I was beginning to fall into my own reverie, a creaking sound from behind me nearly made me jump in surprise. It was a sound I knew well—the sound of the door leading to the rooftop being slid open. I looked to see whose company I was now in.

If Kawasaki was shocked to see me, she didn't show it. Silently, without as much as a greeting, she meandered her way to where I was, not even bothering to make eye contact. Upon reaching me, she unceremoniously plopped herself down on her bottom to my left and began removing the heels from her feet, discarding them next to her. So caught off guard was I to her presence that I almost missed what she said as she leaned backwards onto the railing. "Figured I'd find you up here."

"You figured right," I replied, just barely able to compose an appropriate response without stuttering. Which begged the question—how did she figure that I'd be up here?

Kawasaki hummed, somewhat satisfied, and began to stare blankly up into the night sky. I returned to gaze at the where the sun had once been. Neither of us said anything. If talking to Yuigahama was awkward, then this qualified as cruel and unusual punishment. Why was she even here to begin with? This went beyond the bounds of mere coincidence.

"The weather's nice," Kawasaki commented out of nowhere. As awkward as it might have been at the moment, I couldn't deny that she was right. The gesture was harmless enough, anyway. "Sure is," I eventually agreed.

Though the weather was nice, it was still slightly colder than I'd like. A few stray shivers shook my body now and again. Despite this, I felt small bouts of concern course through me as I glanced at Kawasaki. While her dress was modest, it did little to protect her from the falling temperatures. Her arms were entirely exposed, as were her neck and upper shoulder areas. Her legs, while crossed for comfort and virtue, were still left to deal with the cooled air. It didn't look all that comfortable, to say the least.

My eyes unconsciously lingered, taking in how shapely her legs were, but I quickly thought better of it. Now was hardly the time to be hormonal.

I was in the process of offering her a jacket or blazer, before realizing that I was unequipped for such a favor. The only outerwear I (Komachi, rather) had chosen was my father's rather flimsy vest. With nothing to give in the way of help, I sat idly, still eyeing Kawasaki warily, which she apparently noticed. "Don't worry about me. I'm not cold, promise." I might have seen the smallest hints of a shiver, but I left that to my eyes playing tricks on me.

"We can head inside, if you want," I settled for at least offering to take her somewhere warmer. Sure, the scenery was nice, but I'd feel bad just having her freeze up here for my sake. It was hard to enjoy yourself with constant guilt gnawing at you.

"I told you, I'm fine," Kawasaki insisted, returning her gaze to me. Her makeup had apparently survived the night thus far. "Besides, I don't want to be any closer to that mess of a party than I need to be."

That caught my interest. "Did something happen?"

An angry sigh was accompanied by an annoyed response. "That idiot Tobe jacked the music and started playing EDM. What's worse is that most of the people liked it. I hate this school."

It certainly sounded like common Tobe behavior. Though, I had to wonder where Miura and Hayama were during all of this. They were normally the ones who prevented such foolery from occurring. Tobe achieved Peak Tobe whenever his retainers weren't around.

"What a shame," I replied. "The party was at the very least tolerable before that. A black mark on an otherwise successful night."

"Tolerable?" Kawasaki shot me a questioning look. "You looked miserable the entire time."

"That's just my normal face. And how did you know I was miserable the entire time?"

A huff. "Because I just know. Shut up."

Ignoring any possible implications behind that sentence, I made to change the topic. "I heard people praising your posters. Well done."

"You mean our posters," Kawasaki quickly corrected. "It was a joint effort, remember?"

"Hardly," I snorted. "You carried that whole project. I just made a few suggestions and colored a bit. An infant could have done what I did."

"I wanted to give you a task within your skill range," Kawasaki joked. She had gotten marginally better at that lately. Not by a lot, but I could at least tell when she wasn't being serious anymore. Progress was progress, after all. "But seriously, you helped a lot. Don't downplay what you did."

"If you insist," I conceded. Considering that we already had this discussion, I wasn't in any real mood to continue it.

I was in the mood, however, to broach Kawasaki about something that had been weighing heavily on my mind as of recently. While I myself had never made any real effort to ponder the topic by my lonesome, it was something that I felt needed to be discussed with her. In fact, she was likely the only one who had a say in what I was asking.

I made to speak, but stopped. The words were at the tip of my tongue, but struggled to go any further. I questioned my resolve—why was I hesitating? Surely I wasn't all that nervous. Hikigaya Hachiman, the self-proclaimed King of Loners, didn't get flustered, especially around women. Sure, what I was bringing up carried some semblance of importance, but it wasn't as though I were asking her to marry me or anything.

My heart rate sped up slightly, and I quickly banished the thought. Bad analogy.

Again, Kawasaki had apparently picked up on me wanting to say something. It was nearly off-putting, how easily she was able to sense whenever I was struggling to speak. "Something on your mind?"

"Yes, actually," I answered. I swallowed and cleared my thoughts. As cliché as it was, it was quite literally now or never. I likely wouldn't have a better opportunity to talk to her about this without interference. With only Kawasaki and the higher powers as witnesses, I made to speak.

"Do you feel safe?"

Of all things, Kawasaki's eyes narrowed at me. As though I'd grown a second head. "Do I... what?"

God, please don't make me explain. This is already super painful and awkward as it is. Seriously, why did I have to come to this stupid festival? "I mean, do you feel safe. Going to and from work. That was the whole reason you requested help from the club, right?"

Kawasaki still looked confused, before jolting in remembrance. Had she forgotten all about her own request? "O-Oh. Yeah... the request," rubbing her arms in thought, she answered me a few short seconds later. "I mean... I guess I do."

"You guess?"

"I don't feel in any immediate danger when I walk down the streets, at least," Kawasaki elaborated after my careful prodding. "Though, that's mostly thanks to you."

I sighed, relieved. Though I had asked for her sake, I was already aware of what her answer would be. I had searched the news for any recurring incidents around the area she and I worked at, and was pleased to discover that crime had gone down as of recently, exempting a few unfortunate cases. Whether it was an odd spike in crime in the first place or a simple regression to the mean was irrelevant—it seemed that Kawasaki would be safe now.

Which led to my next point of discussion. "I'm glad to hear that. That being said, there was something I wanted to tell you."

Kawasaki's gaze returned to me. "What's up?"

I took a small breath. Was the air suddenly feeling hotter? "I decided that I'm going to put in my two weeks notice tomorrow."

It was difficult to describe what happened as I spoke. It felt as though a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders, only to be replaced by another, slightly heavier one. I was a mixed bag of contentment and regret, and I honestly couldn't tell which was more in abundance. I was happy to prospect on the idea of returning to a normal high school life (and a normal sleeping schedule), but the growing pang of uncertainty was steadily building within my consciousness.

I didn't dare look at Kawasaki—despite how calm I sounded, revealing how apprehensive I was feeling to her felt like a mistake, in addition to an obvious sign of weakness. I wouldn't allow my carefully constructed demeanor to show cracks in front of other people. Especially her.

While my inner turmoil was hard to describe, I didn't hear a word from Kawasaki. I waited for a few seconds that felt like years, but still she remained silent. Shooting a careful glance in her direction, my eyes made their way to her spot next to me.

Her face was turned in my direction, mouth agape slightly. Her amethyst eyes had widened slightly. Her expression was one I had never seen from her before. Though she might have been showcasing emotions I was familiar with, I was hesitant to label her under any of the terms manifesting in my head.

Needless to say, I was a bit unnerved. Her response, or lack thereof, had been more than a little confusing. "Kawasaki?" I called out, equal parts curious and cautious of where this conversation was heading. I wasn't in any mood to perform even more mental gymnastics, but I wanted to learn what made my normally collected classmate so speechless.

Thankfully, Kawasaki at least appeared to be a little sheepish in response to her lack of an immediate answer. Clearing her throat, she carried on in careful sentences. "Um... sorry, I..." Only now did I realize that she had scooted toward me, and I was now acutely aware of how close she was to my person. In spite of this, I made no move to back away.

She eventually was able to choke out a sentence. "That... won't be necessary."

"This is more for myself than it is for you," I grimaced slightly as I corrected her. There wasn't any nice way of phrasing that sentence. "I figured that since you feel safe around your workplace, we can officially deem your request completed."

This time, Kawasaki didn't bother trying to form an immediate reply, leaving me the opportunity to quell the sudden surge in adrenaline I had received. I had been unconsciously clenching my fists and jaw for a good five minutes, be it due to the cold or other factors. I preferred to think the former as the primary cause, but given recent events surrounding the opposite sex, that supposition was up for debate.

It was almost shameful, in truth. Seeing myself get flustered and overwhelmed by women reminded me so much of my middle school self—a persona I thought I had long extinguished. Those odd sensations and feelings that I often used to suffer from whenever I saw a certain accursed woman from my adolescent past (she who shall not be named) had returned en masse, and the primary cause was standing right across from me with a conflicted look on her normally neutral face.

Were I to be entirely honest with myself, I was beginning to question the very foundation of my opposition to such feelings. Something that scared the living daylights out of me.

As Kawasaki eventually got around to answering, she again folded her arms, though this time I had the foresight to look away. She seriously needed to stop doing that. For both our sakes.

"I understand where you're coming from," Kawasaki began, her tone level and controlled. "But you should know that my request is hardly over."

Disregarding my own inner turmoil, any version of Hikigaya Hachiman hated being disputed. Such was the selectively competitive nature of loners. "How is that? You admitted to feeling safe not more than two minutes ago."

"I admitted to being safe for now," Kawasaki elaborated quickly. "That doesn't mean it'll stay that way. Chiba could experience the worst outbreak of sexual assault cases in recorded history within the next month, and you'd essentially be leaving me to fend for myself because of poor vigilance on your part. I don't think that would be a good look for you or the service club."

It pained me to admit that she brought up a valid point. Still, I wasn't willing to bend to sound judgement quite yet. "You and I are both aware that such an exaggerated occurrence won't happen. Besides, you're a strong girl. You can more than hold your own against any lone creeps that might be lurking out there."

"Creeps don't work alone, dumbass," Kawasaki refuted harshly, as if it were obvious. "You saw it with those college idiots, remember? There were three of them. What they lack in individual strength, they make up for in numbers."

"That can't be the case for every instance of sexual assault," I replied as innocently as I could manage. Kawasaki was probably right, but maybe I could pull a fast one on her and feign ignorance to make up for my misjudgment. I was due for some good luck anyway.

"Is the concept of organized crime a new concept for you? Or are you actually just that stupid?"

Maybe not then.

Kawasaki sighed. It sounded more exasperated than tired. "Look, I don't mean to come off as an asshole about it. I just... I don't agree with what you're doing."

"What do you want me to do then?" I asked, genuinely at a loss. I had been so set on my previous course of action, but of course, Kawasaki had tossed that reasoning out of the window.

"Well..." Kawasaki made herself smaller. She nervously fiddled with the loose ends of her lustrous hair. "I mean... I don't want to place any more of a burden on you..."

Were I to be entirely literal with her, this whole request had been a burden on me. Now hardly felt like the appropriate time to mention that, though. "You're the one who made the initial request. As a member of the service club, I can only do what is asked of me by my client."

It was the most cordial and responsible answer I could come up with. It pained me to act so business-like (it felt as though I were already accepting my fate as a corporate wage slave), but given the circumstances, I felt as though it were a more than suitable answer. Hiratsuka likely would have praised me for it, were she here to witness it. Not that I desired such a thing.

My reply also seemed to have a somewhat profound effect on Kawasaki as well. She appeared to be a mixture of surprise and revelation, as though she had discovered the meaning of existence. A part of me enjoyed the sight—seeing the girl express emotion that wasn't stoic displeasure or outright anger was a welcome change. The feeling was purely platonic, of course, and in no way layered.

It was difficult to imagine that the very same girl had been berating me and calling me an idiot not more than a few minutes ago. Women, as always, were strange and fickle creatures.

"You said that you'd do what was asked of you, right?" Kawasaki broke me from my temporary muse, though she sounded uncharacteristically meek.

"Yes," I answered plainly. I wasn't without feeling, however.

"You... you promised that you would do anything I said, remember?"

I certainly didn't recall making such a vow, but it wasn't like I was in any position to deny her. A part of me didn't entirely mind such an arrangement anyhow. "Yes," I repeated.

She didn't answer quickly, allowing me the chance to finally build the courage to look Kawasaki in the eye. The stars seemed to shine on her, illuminating the features of her face I had missed previously—the slender arc of her eyes that shone with fierce yet restrained emotion, the uncertain curve of her full lips, and perhaps the most dangerously alluring aspect of her, the very prominent blush adorning the majority of her pale cheeks. It took a great deal of force to stop myself from drinking in her entire appearance, which became increasingly captivating by the second. I wanted to berate myself for getting caught within such a hormonal and shameless state, but for the life of me, I couldn't manage to do so. I simply allowed myself to become enchanted by the sight of the girl before me.

"Y-You can't deny my request, understand?" Kawasaki stuttered (a rarity for her), and by this point, I had forgone all audible responses, instead choosing to nod semi-confidently at her. Taking my response with apparent acceptance, she made to speak once more.

It was quiet, nearly a whisper. I almost missed the sound of her soft voice as she gave me an answer I didn't know I had been eagerly waiting for.

"... stay."

As anticlimactic as her response might have sounded, I wasn't oblivious to the potential undertone of her words. Nervously, I pressed for more. "Stay?"

Kawasaki answered with little hesitation, and a surprising amount of resolve. "Hachiman, you are to stay with me until I deem it appropriate for you to consider the request fulfilled. Until then, you will remain in the employ of the Angel Ladder, and you will continue to escort me to and from work. Of course, you are also to ensure that any other miscellaneous requests by me are also handled promptly and with the utmost care."

Her voice faltered slightly as she continued in a softer tone. "You... you're gonna stay by my side, until I say you can leave. Am I clear?"

"... sure," I replied lamely. It felt more suitable to salute her, given how she was ordering me around like a dispensable foot soldier. I doubted any man in the world had the courage to do such a thing, especially against someone as infamous as Kawasaki. I settled for biting my tongue.

Silence settled over us once more, yet Kawasaki remained painfully close to me. If she was aware of the fact, she apparently didn't mind. I was hardly self-conscious, but I was still very much unaccustomed to being within close proximity to anyone, even if I had no real reason to fear Kawasaki. Clearing my throat, I carefully shuffled away from my classmate in as polite a manner as possible.

Kawasaki seemed to get the inaudible message I was sending her, and in a flash, returned to a respectable distance away from me. "S-Sorry," she admitted quietly.

"It's fine," I replied. Funny to think that my coworker invading my personal space was one of the more uninteresting things that had occurred to me today.

Yet, as I stood there, I began to process how the whole scenario had gone down. Briefly abandoning my own insecurities, I mulled to myself quietly, partially enjoying the opportunity to take my mind off of the odd occurrences of the past few hours. I was much more in my element when I was thinking for myself, as opposed to reacting to others.

It simply didn't make sense. To think that Kawasaki would essentially force me to stay just didn't sit right with my own denotation of reason. In all honesty, I was hardly an effective bodyguard—the conflict with the college boys had more than shown that—and I wasn't some supreme gentleman that catered to her every whim and desire. I wasn't even all that good at my literal job at the Angel Ladder. I was, for all intents and purpose, a burden on her, certainly not the other way around. Excluding the bare minimum amount of protection I afforded her to and from work, I couldn't manage to come up with any concrete reason as to why she would want me to stay with her.

I tried to restrain myself, but I couldn't manage to sate my own intrigue without at least inquiring as to how such a resolution came to be. The question flew out of my mouth before I had the chance to think any better of it.

"Why?"

My sudden question seemed to confuse her. Seeing as how there wasn't any way I could retract my query, I made to elaborate.

"I mean, I'm not trying to sound rude. I'm glad I was able to keep you safe. But why go to such lengths to keep me around?"

I half expected her to be offended by my comment, considering that her own mood seemed to have shifted multiple times within the past half hour or so. I wasn't always as questioning or interrogative as I was being now, but the urge to know why was strong. There just wasn't any tangible benefit I could see that justified continuing this routine of ours—at least to an extent, her request had been fulfilled. So why?

Fortunately, there weren't any signs of irritation that surfaced from my question, and she answered calmly. "Is there a problem with it?"

That was the strangest part. Despite everything that had transpired, everything that forced me to reevaluate my own characters and ideals, I found that I wasn't up in arms about it, when I felt that I very well should have been. And that scared me.

Remaining stoic, I scratched the back of my head awkwardly. "Well... not really. I'm just wondering is all."

She looked at me then, with a gaze that was probably the most strange I had ever seen from her. Granted, I had seen her do quite a few strange things around me, and remembering the number of times she had looked at me with an expression I couldn't hope to read was quickly becoming a more arduous task by the day. To be unable to read between the lines of a person, something that I had considered my one gift, was vexing to say the least. Even now, I gazed at a face that shone with a light that went against everything I thought I could gleam from people.

The very few emotions I could pick up from her looked to be a strange mixture of determination and finality.

"Hachiman," she began, and almost unnoticeably, she made small steps in my direction. "Do you remember when you and the service club first helped me with Taishi's request?"

I remembered it well. Vividly, even. "I do."

"Do you remember how much of an ass I was to you guys?"

I almost had the urge to laugh. If I thought that the current Kawasaki was bad, the Kawasaki I met at the bar those many months ago was Satan incarnated. It was easy to forget how much she had grown since then. "Unfortunately, yes."

Taking my light jab in stride, she continued with the faintest of smiles. "Back then, work and isolation was all I knew. I had been so focused on getting into college and taking care of my siblings that I had entirely disregarded any possible outside help. I thought that anyone willing to help me was either trying to extort me or get in my pants. Maybe both."

It was her turn to rub her head sheepishly. "It didn't help that I was still a bit of a delinquent. I solved most of my problems by punching them. You can imagine my apprehension when I saw three of my schoolmates that I had never spoken to previously come up and ask me about my job."

That much was understandable. I still get a little apprehensive when people I'm familiar with sneak up on me. Old habits certainly die hard.

"I'm sure you knew how much of an idiot I was. I forced the idea that it was me against the world, and I was certain that I didn't need to accept help from anyone," Kawasaki's eyes trailed off. "I lived a sad life. Going through all of that stress alone was probably the worst thing I could have done to myself. Even now, it's still my biggest regret."

Her eyes then returned with vigor. "But you and the others helped change that. If it wasn't for you three, my head would have been up my ass for God knows how long. I'd still be slaving myself half to death, and I don't think I'd even consider attending school regularly. Seriously, you three changed my life, and I can't thank you enough for it."

I fought the urge to look away. I don't think I'd ever get used to receiving praise for the stuff I did on behalf of the club. It was such an odd feeling to know that someone as backwards and unlikable as me had people that actually appreciated what I did for them. Whereas Yukinoshita and Yuigahama took it in stride, I still had a ways to go before ultimately realizing how I was supposed to react to praise being lavished upon me unwillingly.

Still, I'd be lying if I said it was an unwelcome feeling. Maybe Yuigahama was right about that whole appreciation thing. Not that I'd ever tell her, of course.

"Just doing my job," I answered simply. That was the truth. I certainly wasn't doing any of this out of any goodness of my heart. I was many things, but a good person certainly wasn't one of them.

Kawasaki apparently wasn't done, however. "That's the thing. A few months ago, I might have believed you. You're exactly the kind of guy to shirk any kind of responsibility and say that it was you 'just doing your job'. A lot of people hear that from you, equate it with your horrible reputation, and just agree with the idea that you're the worst guy in the world."

Another few steps closer to me. "But... I know the truth. You're more than what those dumb rumors say you are. Those idiots out there just can't stand the thought of you being a better person than they're willing to admit, Hachiman."

"I..." I desperately searched for any kind of effective rebuttal, but my head was in the midst of a flustered spasm. Combined with how close Kawasaki was getting, I felt like I was slowly forcing myself into a corner I couldn't escape from. Quickly, so as to not have myself gaping at her like some sort of confused fish, I rushed out, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I might be the only one in Chiba who knows what they're talking about," Kawasaki refuted instantly. Her eyes bored into mine, and she continued. "You walk me to and from work. You help me with school projects. You listen to me vent about my siblings and my schoolwork. You help me fend off horny losers looking for a quick fuck. That goes beyond just doing your job as someone from the Service Club."

She was barely a few inches from my face, and that familiar scent of autumn resurfaced. I could feel her soft breaths tickling the base of my neck. The finer details of her face were heightened exponentially at such a short distance, and I had no choice but to look at her as she spoke, barely restraining myself from losing my collective consciousness.

"You..." to make matters more harrowing, that enchanting blush of hers returned in full force. "You're the sweetest guy I've ever met. If I'm being honest, you're all I've been thinking about lately, and..." another brief, agonizing pause. "... I don't regret a single second I spend thinking about you. Thinking about us."

I began to garner a vague idea of where this was going.

"Hachiman," she whispered, almost breathless. In a surprisingly bold move, I felt her slender arms wrap around my neck. "I've been meaning to tell you this for a long time, and I don't think I'll get a better chance than now. You're dense, lazy, and painfully cynical, but you're so much more than that. You helped me realize what I needed to do to get my life back on track, and I will be forever grateful for your help... and," her grip then tightened. "I want to be the one to help change your life for the better."

Kawasaki, shining in the moonlight, dressed in her beautifully modest dress, with an air that reminded me of a quaint autumn breeze, pressed forwards with the words that meant no return.

"Hachiman, I lo—"

"I need to go!" I forcefully pushed past her and untangled myself from her grip, trying my best to ignore the startled cry of shock and dejection. Not even bothering to look back, I sprinted away from her, past the sliding door to the rooftop, through the hallways with blurred faces I couldn't even hope to remember, all the way to the bike racks. Mounting my trusty steed, I peddled as quickly as humanly possible. Not once did I even entertain the idea of slowing down until I reached my house.

It was so like me. Cowardly. Reprehensible. Purely and utterly deplorable. But I was more than okay with that—for within those terms lied a sense of familiarity. A familiarity with being degraded and debased as a loner who didn't deserve the privilege of a happy ending. One who was undeserving of something truly genuine.

She had brought upon me something I feared more than any concrete person or object. She had introduced the concept of immediate change to me—the idea that even someone as horrible and shitty as I could find something worthwhile in other people. That despite my shortcomings, my faults, and my numerous mistakes in the past, that I too had the opportunity to strive towards something better in my life.

But I knew the truth. At least, I was rather sure I did. Life was unforgiving, and cruel, and hardly ever satisfying. Often you were presented with something, only to have it stripped away from you the moment you grew comfortable. Orimoto had more than proven that to me—I would not fall for the same trick twice, regardless of how believable Kawasaki might have looked. I was the only one who understood how I felt, after all.

Still, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remove the thought from my head. Kawasaki Saki, reformed delinquent, shameless bro-con, and certified workaholic, was interested in me romantically.

And, as I furiously peddled back to the comfort of my home, her gorgeous appearance refusing to leave my head, I was immensely worried that the feeling might have been mutual.

---

I initially thought of posting this on Valentine's Day (because how original would that be?), but upon further review, the chapter wasn't all that inspiring to me. I figured, "the readers have been waiting for months, what's a few more weeks?", and so, here we are, with a chapter I am much more proud of. One I hope you guys are proud of too.

Not many more chapters to go until this is finished—the number is less than five. I hope you've been enjoying the ride thus far, and judging by the 400+ favs at the time of this being published, I'd like to assume that you are. It's cool to see so many folks enjoying the garbage I spew out every few months. You make all the painstaking planning and writing worth it.

Fav and Follow if you haven't already. Drop a review if you're feeling dangerous. Depending on how nice (or horribly mean) you are, I may or may not spend hours at a time stressing over what you strangers on the internet think of my fictional work.

That's all for now. Slalem out.

~Slalem